


Reciprocation

by wuwu



Series: Love At Its Finest [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Third Person, Riding, Romance, Smut, They both consent but it can be seen as dubious since they've been drinking, Zen's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:32:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8651314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuwu/pseuds/wuwu
Summary: “How did we get here?” Zen raises his hand and cups Jumin’s cheek, the ghosting of a smile appearing on his face as he gazes down into stormy eyes.“I invited you over,” Jumin says. “And we started drinking. And then you kissed me.”





	

Zen feels dizzy.

He doesn’t know where he is, nor does he know who he’s with, but he can recognize the sweet stream of alcohol muddling his train of thought, making him pliant and needy beneath the large hands that roam his body. Zen can feel himself drown in the silk sheets he lays upon. Fingers grip at his sides, running over his torso lightly and squeezing agonizingly hard every few seconds. The hands ground him. They make him feel safe and alive, reminding him that he is indeed breathing, though he feels that may just be because the alcohol is messing with his nerves, making him nervous and so faraway. He welcomes the touch nonetheless and attempts to reciprocate, but those cold, large hands gently guide him away. Zen closes his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” a voice says. Zen feels his stomach float for a few seconds, heart picking up at the sound of such a familiar voice, but he can’t quite put a name to it. “Absolutely stunning.” He can hear the voice get louder, if only by a small margin, and shivers at the feel of lips pressing soft kisses to his cheek.

Zen hums at the praise, nodding with every compliment that spills out and reaches his ears. The voice rumbles with laughter, low and breathy, and Zen wants to hear more of it.

“Hey,” Zen says, eyes opening so he can look down at the figure atop his chest. “Jumin.” _Yes, that’s Jumin. Jumin Han. Corporate heir and asshole extraordinaire._ “What are we doing?” Zen wants to be upset, wants to recoil from the touches that Jumin gives him, but he can’t find the strength to hate the lingering feeling of his warmth on his body.

“What do you mean?” Jumin asks. He pauses his movements and stares up at Zen, eyelids lowered and irises clouded with lust.

“How did we get here?” Zen raises his hand and cups Jumin’s cheek, the ghosting of a smile appearing on his face as he gazes down into stormy eyes.

“I invited you over,” Jumin says. “And we started drinking.” Zen remembers that. Jumin had refused to serve beer and insisted on sharing a quiet evening with Zen and a couple bottles of wine between the two. “And then you kissed me.” Jumin looks satisfied with that last comment and Zen really wants to punch that smug grin off of his face.

“Mhmm,” Zen giggles. “I did kiss you.” He feels light and airy and can’t stop the affection that drips from his words. Months of tension had built up to this very moment, enveloping the two closer and closer together until Zen couldn’t bear the weight any longer. He doesn’t know if he feels a high off of the wine or if he’s just really in love, but he supposes that neither option is too bad and embraces the sweetness of his own words. “And you kissed me back. _The_ Jumin Han kissed me back.” It feels like a dream.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Jumin smiles. “And I can kiss your pretty body as much as you want.” Zen doesn’t know if Jumin is as drunk as he is or if he’s just playing along with his intoxicated state of being.

“Please,” Zen breathes out, verging on giving a whine. “I want you to touch me, Jumin. I want to feel you all over me.”

“As you wish.” Jumin ducks his head down and presses kisses to the side of Zen’s neck, feather light as he hums quietly. He uses one arm to prop himself up and uses the other to run his palm across Zen’s chest, tender and lovingly. Jumin’s legs are on either side of Zen’s body, trapping him within a bubble of heat.

Zen lets out an appreciative moan, arms raising and loosely wrapping around Jumin’s back, pulling him closer. “You can do even more, y’know,” Zen mentions. “You don’t have to stay above the belt.”

Jumin shakes his head softly. “I don’t want to rush this,” he admits. “I want this moment to last forever.” Zen feels lightheaded.

“Are you sure?” he asks, tone mischievous as he raises his leg to rub against Jumin’s groin. His briefs are tight on his form and Zen wonders how long it’s been since they stripped down to their underwear.

“Zen,” Jumin groans. His voice his tense and low and Zen can feel his cock twitch within his boxers. “What are you doing?”

“I said I wanted to feel you, Jumin,” he says. His breath hitches at the very thought of doing something raunchy with Jumin. “I want to feel _all_ of you. Please.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jumin swears. “I don’t know if we should. You’re drunk, we’re _both_ drunk.”

“Do I need to _beg_ , Jumin?” Zen laughs to himself at the sight of Jumin raising his head, eyes wide and lips parted. The man’s breathing picks up, Zen notices, and he can feel a surge of arousal go straight to his dick.

“Although I would love to hear that lovely little voice of yours beg for me,” Jumin says, voice quiet and careful. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” His mouth roams lower and lower, sucking hickeys on the porcelain skin of Zen’s collarbone. His teeth bite and pull at the skin, tongue running over the bite to soothe the ache as he continues to suck. He can feel Zen groan beneath him and remains there for a few seconds before moving even lower and stopping at Zen’s nipples.

“Are you sensitive, Zen?” Jumin eyes him up, resting his cheek against Zen’s chest as he waits for an answer.

“I don’t know,” Zen huffs out. “I don’t spend my free time playing with my nipples, man.”

Jumin laughs at the absurdity of the statement, shoulders bobbing with every exhale as he shakes his head. “You really are something special.”

Zen rolls his eyes at their banter, soaking in the familiarity of their small teasing. He’s ready to give a retort, but the sudden warmth and dampness of a tongue running over his nipple is enough to send his breath catching in his throat. Jumin rolls his nipple between his teeth, biting down and pulling up softly. His lips are soft and plush, soothing the nub as he plays with Zen. The beginnings of a moan escape Zen’s lips as he does so, chest fluttering and eyes rolling back as he soaks in the attention on his chest.

“Do you like this?” Jumin asks. He keeps his gaze connected with Zen’s, mouth continuing its work as he watches Zen struggle with his words. He gives up on trying to speak and instead lets out a hum along with a nod, chest arching up as he does so. Jumin grins. “Now, I’ve never been one for nipple play, but this is certainly interesting.”

“Just shut up and keep going,” Zen barks out. His fingers tangle in the darkness of Jumin’s hair, threading between the thick locks and pulling.

“Anything for you,” Jumin complies. He moves to lavish attention onto Zen’s other nipple, committing the moans that drip from his lips to memory. The fingers in his hair tug harder and harder with every bite he gives, expressing the pleasure that jolts through Zen.

“Ah, Jumin,” Zen groans. “As much as I love to feel your mouth _on_ me, there’s something I’d much rather feel _in_ me.” He swears under his breath as Jumin gives one last bite to his nipple, stomach coiling as he does so.

“And what would that be?” Jumin teases. Zen huffs at his question.

“F-fuck off, I’m not saying it.”

“Hmm, then I guess I won’t know what you want,” Jumin sighs. He smiles at the scoff that Zen gives and mouths down Zen’s chest, ignoring everything under his navel.

“I want your cock, Jumin,” Zen proclaims. His voice shakes as he looks down at Jumin, fingers loosening their hold on his hair. “I need you.”

A grin overcomes Jumin’s features. “I guess I can’t ignore a request like that.”

“Not like you would’ve wanted to ignore me, anyway.”

Jumin nods. “That’s true,” he agrees. “I would never turn down an opportunity to be with you, much less one offered by the man himself. You’re simply too lovely to give up.” Zen melts at the sincerity of Jumin’s words. He allows his movements to take over, ignoring the heat of the moment and sitting up with practiced ease as he grabs Jumin’s face between his hands.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispers. Zen switches their positions and finds himself atop Jumin, lips locking with the other man’s as he presses a hungry kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry,” Zen mutters. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jumin pulls his face away from Zen’s, brows furrowed as he cradles his face between his hands.

“I don’t know,” Zen says. He’s quiet, chest heaving with the tiniest bubbles of laughter, and he breaks out into a wide smile. “I just think I love you.”

Jumin freezes at the words, hands tense and breathing halted. Zen wants to apologize once more, wants to tell him to ignore him and pretend like he’s never heard a thing. Though, as Jumin slowly beams up at him, eyes overflowing with affection, Zen feels a wave of ease wash over him.

“I think I love you, too,” Jumin admits.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Zen laughs. He shakes with excitement, brain muddled and unfocused as he closes his eyes and rests his forehead on Jumin’s. His limbs feel numb, his chest tingles, and his stomach aches, but he loves the way that Jumin makes him feel, anyway.

“I still think you’re an asshole,” Zen says.

“And I still see you as insufferable,” Jumin reciprocates.

“But you love me.”

“Yes,” Jumin nods. “And you love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Zen can feel Jumin’s hands roam over the expanse of his back, rubbing gentle circles into his skin as he waits for Zen to regain his bearings. He doesn’t know if it’s been mere seconds or an excruciating amount of minutes before he feels the tightness in his chest dissipate, but Zen appreciates that Jumin would even consider waiting for him to calm down. He opens his eyes and stares down at Jumin and frowns inwardly at the feeling of his chest knotting up once more. He realizes that this ache will never truly go away while he’s around Jumin and finds that he doesn’t mind it at all.

“Are you okay now?”

Jumin is soft. His eyes are full of awe, surrounded by dark lashes that emphasize the darkness of his irises and arched upward with a smile that graces his features. Zen can feel his mind shift into overdrive as he gazes down at such beautiful features, thankful that he’s the one who gets to see Jumin in such a state. Zen knows that he’s beautiful, knows that people would pay a hefty price just to be in his company, as seen by the influx of tickets for every production he’s in, but the extravagance of Jumin’s features is something different. Instead of people fawning over Zen on a stage, attracted to his stunning looks, Zen knows that Jumin captivates people in the silence of his company. Jumin’s attractiveness is best observed in close quarters where one can slowly realize what makes him so alluring rather than taking him in all at once. Zen feels drunk off of Jumin.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Zen nods.

“Do you want to continue?”

“Yes, I do.”

Jumin eases Zen down, slow and steady as he guides his face down for another kiss. Their tongues intermingle, pressing against one another as they kiss languidly. Their noses brush together, Jumin’s hands rest in Zen’s hair, Zen’s hands grip at Jumin’s biceps, and everything feels right. Zen grinds down on Jumin, softly at first, but he becomes desperate for friction as he increases with fervor.

“Hold on,” Jumin says between kisses. “Let me get something.” Zen nods, pressing one last peck to his lips, and raises himself a bit so Jumin can twist and reach towards the nightstand on the edge of his bed. His hands are swift as he opens the drawer and pulls out a bottle of lube and a string of condoms. He throws the lube onto the bed next to him and tears off a single condom, letting the rest of them drop to the floor. He can’t be bothered to try and close the drawer, Zen guesses.

“How would you feel most comfortable doing this?” Jumin asks. His seriousness emanates from him, lingering in his voice and his stern gaze. Zen is thankful he’s still given some form of control, even if he’s to lose it in a few minutes.

“Can I ride you?” Zen suggests. Jumin nods and places his hands on Zen’s hips, pressing his thumbs to his skin with care.

“If anything feels off or hurts, make sure to tell me, okay?” Jumin says. “Even if you want to stop everything, let me know. Your comfort is my priority.”

“Okay,” Zen nods. His hands shake as he raises himself once more, holding onto Jumin’s shoulders before moving down to pull off his boxers. The fabric slides against his legs and sends goosebumps running along his skin. He throws them off the edge of the bed before looking back towards Jumin.

“Come here,” Jumin says. He scoots back to the headboard of the bed, easing Zen along with him while he situates himself upright. Zen kneels over him, hoping for Jumin to take the initiative. “I’m going to prepare you, okay?” Zen nods. “This is gonna feel a bit… uncomfortable.”

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Zen says, blowing out a stream of air.

Zen hovers over Jumin, waiting with bated breath as he hears the cap of the lube bottle open. Jumin mutters words under his breath, encouraging and praising Zen, but the compliments are lost as Zen feels his thighs tense at the feeling of Jumin’s fingers probing him. His digits are cold and slippery and bring discomfort, but Zen powers through it and focuses on relaxing. One finger enters him, shifting in and out of Zen for a few seconds to let him get used to the feeling.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmm,” Zen hums. “You can add another.”

Another finger slips inside and Zen hisses at the growing pain that comes with it. Jumin slows his movements, and while Zen is grateful for it, he tells the other man to hurry up, not wanting this pain to stick around. As he fingers Zen, the pain slowly ebbs away and is overcome with the smallest feelings of pleasure.

“May I move on?” Jumin doesn’t halt his work, instead working himself inside of Zen to keep his arousal high before bringing more unease with the presence of a third finger.

“Go ahead,” Zen breathes out. His eyes are screwed shut, his teeth bite at the inside of his bottom lip, and his hands tighten around the broadness of Jumin’s shoulders. Two fingers become three, adding to the fullness in Zen’s ass, and he lets out another exhale of breath. “This is so weird,” he whispers.

“You’ll get used to it.”

After a few more minutes of scissoring Zen, Jumin introduces the thought of adding another finger.

“I want you to fuck me, not fist me,” Zen laughs. “I think three is good enough.”

Jumin purses his lips and nods, sliding his fingers out so he can put on the condom. Zen whines at the loss of contact, already missing the fulfillment of Jumin’s fingers, but as he watches Jumin slide down his briefs and ease the condom down onto his cock, he eagerly waits for something more. The man sighs at the contact of a hand on his dick, pumping it a few times for some sense of relief, before he lifts his gaze back up to Zen.

“Are you ready, Hyun?” Zen swallows back a moan.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” He allows Jumin to lead him atop of his cock, drinking up the words of reassurance as he slowly sinks down onto him, enveloping Jumin within himself. It hurts. A lot.

“Shhh,” Jumin comforts him. “Just breathe and go as slow as you need.”

Zen nods with erratic movements. He holds himself atop Jumin, thankful that his daily workouts allow him to crouch with ease, and he steadily works himself down the length of Jumin’s shaft. He sinks down with gritted teeth, biting back any discomfort that works its way through his body. Zen eventually settles down on his cock, filled to the brim and still as he gets used to the feeling of something so thick inside of him.

“You’re doing great, Hyun,” Jumin mutters. “You’re absolutely wonderful.”

Zen gingerly lifts himself off of Jumin’s cock, not allowing more than half of an inch to escape him before he settles back down. He lifts himself again and again, increasing the increments of which he rises with every rise and fall. Jumin groans beneath him.

“Is this okay?” Zen asks. His words shake, quivering as he rolls his hips. His own cock bounces with the movement, twitching as he grinds down.

“Fuck yes,” Jumin gasps out. “God, you’re so good, babe.” The pet name rolls off of his tongue easily, no signs of embarrassment on his cheeks. Zen picks himself up off of Jumin, teetering toward removing the head of his dick, but he slams back down with a loud moan. “Hyun, is this okay? Are you doing okay?”

“I’m doing fucking great, Jumin,” he sighs out. “Right now, I just want to focus on you.” The appearance of an orgasm builds up in his abdomen, but Zen pushes it down, instead soaking in the sight of Jumin’s brows twitching and lips parting with every movement from Zen.

Jumin is breathless as he nods, eyes lidded and staring up at Zen. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and he moves his face into the crook of Zen’s neck, pressing him closer. Their chests are warm, giving off excess heat that burns to the touch, but the slick of sweat is enough to cool them down somewhat.

“You like this?” Zen asks. “You, ah, like it when I ride you?” Jumin mouths along his neck, tongue licking up his skin and mouth grabbing his earlobe, rolling it between his teeth. It tickles, but Zen welcomes the feeling anyway, enamored with the way it sends chills down his spine. “You like it when I fuck myself on your cock, Jumin?” Said man lets out a loud groan, burying himself in Zen’s warmth, and Zen laughs at his reaction.

“I love you,” Jumin states. “I love you so much, Hyun. I really, really do.”

“Fuck, Jumin, I, _fuck_ ,” Zen gasps out. “I don’t know if I can last much longer.” His legs ache, his stomach is sore, and he can feel a build up in his cock threatening to spill out. Although he would love to see Jumin covered in his come, he’d rather not leave Jumin on his own to finish.

His worries are forgotten, though, as Jumin hikes up his legs and holds him up, thrusting his hips up as he fucks into Zen. The loss of control drives Zen up the wall, sending a jolt of nerves with every unanticipated thrust into him. The feeling of Jumin’s cock inside of him, the sounds of their shared pants and the creaking of the bed, and the love he holds for Jumin send him over the edge. A moan escapes Zen as he comes, spilling onto both his and Jumin’s chests as he gets fucked through his orgasm. Jumin isn’t that far behind, for the telltale sound of his inhales stutter and halt as he works himself through his own release, slowing down his movements into Zen when the actor huffs at the overstimulation.

Zen lifts himself off of Jumin after a minute and flops down onto the bed, closing his eyes as his head hits the pillows. He can hear Jumin slide the condom off of his length along with his confusion as to what to do with it. Zen grumbles and tells him to just put it on the floor, much like he does with every other thing he owns.

“How are you?” Jumin asks, leaning down to lay down next to Zen.

“I can’t believe I came without you even touching my dick,” Zen says. He’s embarrassed by how easy he is, but his voice carries out with strength despite the fact.

“Well, that _is_ kind of sexy,” Jumin mentions. He smoothes down Zen’s hair, brushing it out of his face. “If that’s any consolation.”

“Gee, thanks, trust fund,” Zen snorts. “You’re so romantic.” He turns his head to the side and sighs at the sight of Jumin, hair tousled and cheeks flushed as he gazes down at Zen. The familiar coldness he holds is gone, replaced by the overflowing of emotion he holds for Zen. “Hey, Jumin.”

“Yes?”

“Does this mean we’re boyfriends?” Zen gnaws at the inside of his cheek. They’d had sex and confessed their love for one another, however embarrassing that may sound, but he didn’t want to jump the gun and assume things. Zen’s come to learn that assuming will get him nowhere.

“I would like that, Hyun,” Jumin smiles. Zen smiles as well, undone by the man that he’s despised for so long. He still kind of does dislike him, but the infatuation he holds for Jumin is far stronger, overpowering even the nagging thoughts of Elizabeth 3rd that prod at his nose.

“Yeah, me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably ooc but i just. really wanted some sweet jumin/zen okay,,,


End file.
